


Jack of All Trades

by seths_dream



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi is suspicious, Akira works a LOT of jobs, M/M, Pining, akechi feels feelings and doesn't know what this means, no angst and no smut new phone who dis, takes place before Akechi is a phantom thief
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 09:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20151292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seths_dream/pseuds/seths_dream
Summary: Tokyo is a large place, and Goro Akechi is a busy man. How thehelldoes he keep running into Akira, Phantom Thief suspect #1? How many part-time jobs is it possible for one person to have? And why does Akira seem to know everyone within a fifty mile radius? Most importantly, why does Akechi look forward to seeing him now?NOTE: Currently on hiatus while I take a break from fandom due to medical reasons





	Jack of All Trades

**Author's Note:**

> This will have one chapter per job!(plus a little extra)

Akechi scrubs at his face as Sae looks on with little expression. She doesn’t seem sympathetic to his plight in the least, but he doesn’t expect that of her. They’re having lunch together—a rare occurrence for either of them to take time away from their desks, but it happens from time to time.

“I’m not sure how to make things better between us.” He hadn’t _meant _to spill water over Shido’s receptionist’s shirt. And how was he supposed to know that her blouse was so white and thin as to become transparent while wet? And how was he supposed to know _doubly _that she hadn’t been wearing a bra? His face still smarted from the smack she’d given him.

“You should get her flowers,” Sae says primly.

“I’m not looking to…” Akechi clears his throat uncomfortably. “_Woo _her, Niijima-san.”

Sae presses two fingers to her forehead and grimaces, looking like she has a headache brewing. “Flowers aren’t just for romance, Akechi-kun. They can symbolize friendship, welcomes, farewells… and even apologies. I’m surprised this isn’t in your extensive repertoire of knowledge.”

Akechi lets the barb slide. “I’m not even sure where I would pick out these… apology flowers. What would you propose I get?” He gives a small, carefully self-deprecating laugh, the kind he gives in televised interviews. “I’m afraid I don’t know much more than roses, and I doubt those are appropriate.”

“Despite appearances, I’m not a flower expert either,” Sae says dryly. “There does happen to be a flower stand in the underground mall downtown. They should be able to come up with an arrangement that will placate Butou-san.”

Akechi sighs, shakes his head. Flowers, for Shido’s receptionist. Seriously? To him, that sounds like it would only make things worse, but it’s the only lead he has right now.

And that’s how, after work that day, he finds himself walking down the stairs to the underground mall, briefcase in hand, charming smile at the ready for the fans whispering and angling their phones at him in an attempt to be surreptitious. A couple braver fans make their way up to him, and he flashes a dazzling grin as they take pictures with him.

He can’t decide, even still, if he likes fame or not. He’s not _really _in it for the fame, not like Shido thinks, but there’s something thrilling about being noticed and desired after more than a decade of being invisible. He has _forums _devoted to him now. On the other hand… he’d love to have made it to this flower ship and back already, damn it. He’s exhausted, and the cool sheets of his bed are calling to him more with each step he takes.

He finds the flower shop tucked away in a corner, off the beaten path of the mall. No wonder he hasn’t seen it before. In the corner of his eye, he spots a gaggle of schoolgirls shooting him looks and whispering gossip he can clearly imagine: _Akechi-kun is getting flowers? Oh my god, does he have a girlfriend?_

As if he had time for friends, let alone a girlfriend.

(Or a boyfriend, but there’s no way he’s letting a single one of these simpering idiots know about his sexual preferences. The tabloids would destroy him before Shido would even have a chance.)

A sweet, if plain looking, woman greets him at the shop. She looks to be in her early thirties, dark roots barely peeking out of her caramel colored hair. She gives him a short bow and a smile.

“How can I assist you, sir?”

Akechi is both miffed and pleased that she doesn’t presume to call her by name. “I’m looking to have an apology bouquet made—” he tenses in expectation of probing questions, but she doesn’t open her mouth. He likes this shopkeeper. “—and I’m afraid I know very little about flowers. I was looking for some assistance in picking something out.”

“That’s precisely what we’re here for,” the woman says cheerily. “My assistant will be with you in a moment.”

Akechi looks behind her and sees the back of a head with a nondescript mop of black hair. Looks like some high school kid who just rolled out of bed. If he strains his ears, he thinks he hears a familiar sounding high pitched voice, just barely… He can’t tell where it’s coming from.

And then the kid is standing from his crouched position, dusting soil off his hands onto the sides of his pants (and Akechi can’t quite help but give those pants a fleeting look—they fit… quite well) before turning around, and—

“Kurusu?” Akechi says dumbly.

Akira does not look the least bit surprised. “Flower boy, at your service.” His smile warms Akechi down to his toes. “How can I help you? Picking up something for a lady you’ve been hiding away?”

Akechi isn’t sure why he’s blushing and blustering a denial. It doesn’t matter to him what Akira thinks of his private life. “A-ah, no, this isn’t anything like that.” His laugh sounds stilted to his ears, and he winces. “I’m afraid I may have offended one of my coworkers, and it was suggested to me that I give her flowers to smooth things over. It’s rather important that we stay on good terms.”

“I can definitely help you with that,” Akira says.

“Apology flowers?” a young-sounding voice scoffs. Akechi looks around but sees no one. Strange.

Akira doesn’t make any indication that he heard, instead turning back around and gathering an arrangement of flowers seemingly at whim. Akechi just has to trust that he knows what the hell he’s doing, and maybe look at his ass a little more when Akira bends down to grab some colored plastic wrap to keep the flowers in. Akira may be Akira, but Akechi isn’t _blind, _and those pants really are nice.

“Here you are,” Akira hands them to him with a flourish, and Akechi’s eyes snap up. Lord, he hopes Akira hadn’t noticed him staring at his crotch.

The apology flowers work. Butou-san gives him an embarrassed smile as she accepts them, and surprises Akechi by apologizing in turn.

“I shouldn’t have slapped you,” she says, giving the bouquet an appreciative sniff. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose, it just… was instinct. But thank you, Akechi-san. This was very kind of you.”

Akechi leaves work that day with a wave of relief. He can’t help but think about Akira surrounded by flowers. What sort of bouquet would Akira make for him if he asked? What flowers would he associate with Akechi, what colors, what scents?

Akechi can’t get the thoughts out of his mind, even as he struggles to sleep that night. He ends up staying up far too late in his bed, scrolling through lists of flower meanings on his phone. They don’t make much sense to him and, depending on the site, contradict each other, but he thinks of Akira reading these same sites and feels…

He feels _something. _

**Author's Note:**

> Next up: beef bowl


End file.
